


Shadow

by akaiyuzu



Category: ACCA13区監察課 | ACCA 13-ku Kansatsuka
Genre: Anime Spoilers, Canon - Anime, Changing Tenses, Gen, Introspection, Lotta doesn't have lines but she is There, M/M, POV First Person, POV Third Person, Sharing a Bed, nino is lowkey highkey possessive, nino is too hard on himself - the fic, the ninojean is there only if you squint tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 13:49:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11381484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaiyuzu/pseuds/akaiyuzu
Summary: Growing up, Nino has two examples of extremely loyal men. He feels like he falls short to either one of these standards.





	Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write about this but I'm not too sure anyone wants to read about it lmao  
> This is my first work for ACCA. I should tell you there's a lot of retelling of the events shown in the anime (in fact, it's most of the story—there's only one scene I came up with that doesn't happen in canon... or at least isn't shown :3c). It may be boring to some (most) people, but I wanted to rationalize and link those events through Nino's point of view, making sense of his actions and attitudes. I guess this must be pretty character study-like. If that interests you, I hope you'll like this work.  
> My last one-shot was a lot like this too, but I sort of got carried away with this one so it got pretty lengthy. Nino is quite intriguing, so it was a nice exercise for my writing; trying to decipher his expressions and behavior and work it around the existing plot.  
> This is unbeta-ed and English is not my first language, so please, don't hesitate to point out any mistakes. Just be specific so I can fix it immediately.  
> I'll probably write My Own Version of Nino and Jean meeting at the bar and developing their relationship post-canon (and then I'll be actually creative *cough cough*). It might be posted under this same title or as another work altogether, but that's a talk for another day. Without further ado, please enjoy! ^^

"For the princess."

I didn't hear the words leaving Abend's lips, but I could see the phonemes forming around them perfectly while I peeked from the street corner, my father's reassuring warmth beside me.

As Abend slowly walked in Princess Schnee's footsteps, I saw a glint of _something_ in his brown eyes for the first time. It disappeared just as quickly behind white tresses, but for a kid like me, born in the royal city, it was all I needed to recognize the purpose in Abend's gaze. Even so, the intensity of it made the hairs in the back of my neck stand on end.

It was fierce devotion.

 

For twenty years, I didn't see our master's—Abend's—face again.

Removed from his fearsome focus, I grew up in the warm light of my father's adoration for Princess Schnee and her growing family. I would be fixing lunch and my father would scurry into the kitchen, announcing that "Princess Schnee has a job now!" or, "Princess Schnee is expecting a baby!"

My father's words were full with pure reverence and pride when he spoke of Princess Schnee's family—the Otus family. It intrigued me at first; I realized that my father was genuinely happy solely for the happiness of these people whom he only ever saw through his viewfinder, whom he had never spoke a word to.

"And when His Majesty is happy, so is the Privy Council president! That makes our master happy, and therefore, makes us happy," my father told me once, when I teased him about trying too hard to write his reports on Lady Schnee like stories.

My father was happy making other people happy—making his lonely master happy, making the old king happy.

I was happy because my father was happy.

Because I started caring deeply for that family too, drawn in by my father's grand, sweeping gestures, voice brimming with pride for Lady Schnee and each new step she took as she rebuilt her life in Badon.  It was our very own royal family, with us as its only subjects.

But despite how easily my father made me forget it, we weren't there to simply watch over the Otus family. I wasn't simply a subject watching my small prince toddling around his father's legs over the park fence. My father and I, we were the eyes of the king.

And that was when I was reminded of Abend's unwavering will. It was when I eavesdropped on my father's calls to our master and listened to my father guaranteeing faster updates on Lady Schnee. It was when my father would pull all-nighters to write his tale-slash-report of the week, and leave early in the morning to take more pictures.

We started sharing the work in earnest when I was twenty-five. Still, my father was the one in contact with our master, the one writing reports. I only received a camera, a pair of glasses and the order to turn back ten years of my life, to become Jean Otus' shadow.

I was twenty-seven when I heard Abend's voice again.

 

"Hello," I answered hoarsely to the phone. On the TV screen, pouring light into the dark living room, was the headline: _Peshi-Rokkusu train accident._ My eyes were glued to the figure of a suited man giving a statement in a press conference, but I didn't listen to him.

"Did you see the news?" Asked a low voice I hadn't heard in years, but which I knew very well whom it belonged to.

"I'm watching it right now," I said, lifeless. "Any news of Lady Schnee and her husband?"

Almost at the same time the question left my lips, two of the names at the bottom of the screen jumped into my vision. Casualties, the anchor said.

_Schnee Otus._

_Karl Otus._

In a corner of my mind, one that wasn't yet clouded with pain, my thoughts jumped to Jean. Jean and little Lotta, who had just had her third birthday not long ago. I'd have winced at the image of Lotta crying, but, in that moment, I couldn't tell if I was hurting any more or any less for my friends.

Abend followed up with the details, and I could feel the somberness of his voice further searing the facts into my skin. "Their train fell into the ravine. Your father was probably also in the accident."

I knew he was there. He had told me he'd be there.

"Knowing him, he'd have arranged it so that anything connecting him to the Dowa family would be out of reach," Abend concluded with finality. I hadn't been the one dealing with him for two decades, but I somehow knew he wasn't about to give me his condolences.

"Go to Rokkusu immediately. Retrieve what your father left there, and then return."

I only knew I had clenched my fist when I felt the bluntness of nails biting into my palm. I breathed deeply, but soundlessly, and the words that left my mouth were ones that spoke of ideas that had grown up with me. Ideas that lurked in my shadow when I stood in the dark with my camera.

"It was for a day like today that you allowed my father to take me with him, wasn't it?"

I could still recall the relaxed set of Abend's shoulders when I crossed the threshold into that room. The barely audible smile in his voice when he told me and my father to have our apple cake before our departure. My father might've chalked it up to goodwill on his master's part, but I knew; Abend was a cunning man, able to dispassionately play his pawns as they fell into his chessboard, never making waste, never moving carelessly.

"That day... You knew I was standing outside the door." It wasn't an accusation but rather a simple statement. Accordingly, Abend didn't deny.

That day, I had fallen right into Abend's hand. _For His Majesty_ , I told him then, thinking, in my childish innocence, that it was my way to persuade him to take me along. I realized only later on that I had become a part of his game in the moment I stopped before that door.

"I didn't choose to help you for His Majesty," I said, only to make a point, only to let it leave my heavy chest.

"It was for your father, wasn't it?" Abend said, his voice like a hiss of satin against the speaker. Of course he knew; having that knowledge was what enabled him to make use of me.

"Yes," I confirmed needlessly, and I was hollow, raw. "In other words, it was for my own sake."

It was because my happiness was my father's happiness. It was in the apple cakes we ate together in Dowa, in the chocolate-flavored sweets he started bringing to our home in Badon, in his gushing updates of Lady Schnee's daily life.

But now, my father was not here anymore... nor was Lady Schnee.

 _I just don't know where I'd be if you hadn't been around... The master's all alone,_ my father told me once, wiping budding tears from his eyes.

Yes. Abend had left everything behind to follow Lady Schnee. Remembering the determined shine in his eyes the day she freed him, I knew it wasn't an overstatement to say Abend lived for Lady Schnee's well-being. But now, the princess was gone, and yet, Abend still spoke with such cool superiority, while I was doing my level best not to crumble.

When my voice returned to me, it was laced with vengeance, with a need to let Abend know I knew his motives just as well I knew mine. To let him know that, no matter how much he tried to hide himself underneath a cloak of measured words and gestures, I knew exactly how much he had to be breaking inside.

_You're no better than me._

"The same goes for you," I said, cold eyes stuck to the TV screen. "You didn't choose this for His Majesty or for the Privy Council president. You chose this for Princess Schnee... because her happiness is your own."

Abend was silent for a short moment. Then, he proceeded in his empty, professional tone. "That's right. Get back to me when you retrieve his belongings, and you'll receive new instructions, Nino."

The call was cut off, and the droning of the line, dead on my ear, soon turned into a new kind of silence on its own.

 

~

 

Jean Otus is the kind of man that probably doesn't think of himself as the protagonist of his own story. He takes things as they come, doesn't ask a lot of questions and he's _utterly_ disinterested in himself—as if in compensation to that, though, he is extremely observant.

Still, this passiveness lays him in quite a bit of trouble from time to time, and then Nino has to work in the background to rescue him. Maybe Jean's lack of self-awareness is the reason why Nino finds it all too easy to make him the protagonist of his own story.

After his father's death, the brunt of the older man's work fell entirely on his back, and the focus and discipline suddenly required from Nino has helped him ignore his grief as he supports Jean and Lotta through their own.

"You'd be hopeless without me," Nino says playfully one night, while he's cooking dinner at the Otus' household.

Jean, holding Lotta to his chest while sitting at the kitchen table, drags his gaze up from his sister's sleeping face to look at Nino. These days, they're at a loss with how to deal with the poor girl; Jean can only hug her tight when she starts crying for their parents, and Nino helps with promises to cook her favorites. And just like this, every time, she cries herself to sleep.

Nino throws back a glance when the silence runs too long, and finds Jean staring at him.

"Jean?" Nino calls, suddenly wary of offending Jean.

However, Jean just blinks, as if shaken out of his reverie, and drops his head with a huffed laugh. When he raises his face, he's smiling softly.

"Yeah. Thank you, Nino."

Nino replicates his breathy laugh, almost in a startle, and turns back to the stove. He lets one hand wave Jean's words dismissively while the other keeps on stirring the chicken soup in the pot.

In Jean's mind, they're contemporaries who've met at the same step in the crossroads. In truth, Nino was there when Jean learned how to ride a bike (with a hat obscuring his visage, Nino handed him a band-aid when he scraped his knee), and he was there the day Jean's father lost the little boy in a crowd (Nino grabbed his small hand in his own and led him to the nearest police station).

Nino has been watching Jean from the moment he was in his mother's womb. Following someone's growth is bound to foster a sense of protectiveness in the observer's heart, and it isn't different with Nino. Hell, he already feels protective of Lotta, and the girl is not even four yet. But, more than that, there's a growing sense of _superiority_ inside Nino, and it's entirely about Jean.

It isn't superiority _in relation_ to Jean, of course, but to those around him. It is never put to challenge, simply because _no one_ ever gets too close; in school, they're each other's only friend and they never sought out to broaden their circle. That feeling is only fed and fed, by Jean's lazy smile when Nino comes over to cook dinner and by Lotta's vice grip around his neck as she begs her older brother to have Nino sleep over.

Maybe, when it was only a bud, it could've been cut off easily, but Nino doesn't know the insidious feeling exists within him until it's ingrained in his bones—until it vibrates under his skin when Jean gets his first girlfriend, in the winter of their third year of high school.

By the time Nino realizes, he already can't tell when it started and doesn't know how to stop it from building up and up every time he's with Jean and the girl suddenly joins them. Every time she lets her head fall on Jean's shoulder and every time she mistakes Lotta's name.

Purposefully accidental touches, wide smiles, wrong gifts, willful ignorance.

_You don't know him like I do._

_I'm the one he comes to when he has a problem._

_He needs me, not you._

Nino conceals these ugly thoughts behind eyes pinched shut and tight-lipped smiles.

If his father knew Nino was harboring such feelings for their prince, he would surely scold his son. As he lets his eyes graze over the cold seat his father used to occupy at their small kitchen table, Nino can almost hear his father's words, a saddened reprimand.

 _The master wouldn't like this,_ his father would say, brows upturned. _We are mere servants to the royal family, Nino. You can't properly fulfill your duties like this. His Majesty is counting on us. We are the only ones..._

"I'm the only one," Nino mutters to the empty room.

As he develops a picture of Jean and his girlfriend, hands held loosely on the bottom of the frame, Nino wonders for the first time what Abend felt when Princess Schnee fell in love with Karl Otus.

 

A few years down the road, Jean has long broken up with his high school girlfriend, and Nino poses the question to his supervisor.

Abend's features harden. Nino thinks he will ignore the question, but he surprises himself when the older man says:

"I thought he didn't deserve her. Karl Otus didn't do anything wrong; having watched over her for years, I simply thought no man was worthy of her. When I saw how deeply they cared for each other, however, I changed my mind. She loved him, after all—I trusted her assessment over everything else. She couldn't be wrong, not ever."

Nino snorts and lets out some glib comment that Abend promptly brushes off. He forgets what it is as soon as he says it.

Compared to his supervisor, Nino really is like a snotty brat wrapped up in his own vanity.

 

Most people will count their lives by the years they've lived, but Nino doesn't trust that method, not after living fifteen years as someone ten years younger. Instead, he finds it much more reliable to count his life by the years _Jean_ has lived—after all, those are the years he's lived as well, to Jean's knowledge.

What's more, Jean isn't the only one who's made some growing up over the years. For all of Nino's supposed maturity and the secret weight of ten additional years upon his shoulders, he has learned just as much as Jean. Above all, he's learned restraint, or, as Abend would put it, _learned his place_.

Having watched over Jean for thirty years now (and counting), Nino has long tossed away his youthful rebellion against Abend. It's taking him long enough, but Nino is learning; being beside the Otus siblings is his job. It's his life duty, just as much as it is Abend's life duty to make sure the king is informed of his lost grandchildren's lives.

To think he was once jealous of people who got too close to Jean... it was laughable, really, even disgusting. Surely, it must've been the high school atmosphere getting to his head, and the fact that, job or not, Jean was—still is—his best friend.

And it's so easy to forget his obligations when Jean tilts his head and shows Nino that lazy grin of his. Jean complains that Nino goads him into drinking too much when they hit the bar together, and yet, Jean resists for all of five seconds until he's banging his empty beer mug on the table and asking for refills, face flushed.

Extracting information from Jean is part of Nino's job description, but he'd be lying if he said he doesn't take personal joy in the sight of a drunken Jean's red-tipped ears and pink cheeks. Even worse than that are the dopey smiles Jean flashes him in his inebriated state, and how he becomes progressively snappy, the smooth drag of his voice lilting into a whine as he retorts Nino's jabs.

And when Nino gets home, he spills it all onto paper in an objective, clean language. Only warm enough that Jean's rich colors don't turn black and white—while he's not in the business of writing modern-life tales like his father, the king wouldn't like a completely clinical report.

Nino pulls the finished report out of the dactylographer and attaches one of his freshly-developed pictures to the corner of the paper. Dark-blue eyes glide over red-tipped ears peeking out of golden hair, and Nino reminds himself, once again, that everything he sees is not for him alone.

 

After the Five Chief Officers' order, Nino enters the stage as yet another character; Crow, undercover agent for ACCA's Internal Affairs, keeping watch on Jean Otus due to his role as the intermediary for those favorable to a coup d'état.

Nino saw Chief Officer Grossular's command coming from a mile away, and it sure took its _sweet time_. Regardless, Nino would say it was worth the amusement of watching the man sent by Grossular tripping over his own feet to follow Jean, only to hit a dead end. Despite how laid-back Jean may look, there's no way he wouldn't have noticed such crude surveillance.

"Jean Otus noticed your man watching him," Nino informs Grossular, sitting before his desk after being called to his office. The Chief Officer's eye twitches, and, as Nino gets up to leave, he proceeds with no small amount of satisfaction, "I wouldn't make that mistake."

It's impossible not to feel a swell of pride at succeeding where so many fail. Nino can see the reluctance in Grossular's guarded stance, the tight line of his lips and his piercing gaze. Even knowing the great risk of a conflict of interests, the Five Chief Officers had to resort to calling him. That's how good Nino's surveillance is.

And after watching Jean for thirty years, he's the one target only Nino can handle.

 

It's on top of a snowy mountain in Birra that Nino realizes.

_I've really become conceited._

In high school, it took a month for Nino to blend into Jean's surroundings. A week before Jean stopped flinching when he noticed Nino taking pictures of him. Two weeks before Jean started smiling back at him when he found himself in Nino's viewfinder. Past one month, and Jean only looked up at him in curiosity, as if asking Nino why he thought the moment was worth a photograph.

Nino himself didn't really know. It was his duty to capture what he could of Jean's—and later, the entire Otus family—daily life. However, the more Nino stood beside Jean, the more he caught himself entranced with the lines of Jean's face, the way the light spread itself across his skin and threw shadows over its grooves, the movement of his knuckles and fingers when he was eating lunch.

By the end of his third month in school, Nino had used more film than his father had in six months. He expected at least some light chiding about being wasteful, but his father completely brushed it off.

"This is an amazing shot! The prince is giving such a disarmed smile to the camera." The older man looked up at his son with a grin, the corners of his eyes crinkled up. "It's visible how much he trusts you."

It's clear to Nino now, seeing Jean turn back and look up from the hotel entrance at the foot of the mountain. His blue eyes seem to pierce through Nino's viewfinder and drag something out of the depths of his soul.

He's taken Jean's trust for granted... as well as his place beside the other man.

"Jean wouldn't suddenly realize on his own after so long, I'm positive you know that already," Abend says after Nino's finished telling him the story. His voice is clear even under the phone's crackling static. "That means someone must've fed him the information, and that could only be one of the Five Chief Officers."

"Chief Officer Lilium, I reckon," Nino says, or rather, croaks out. His supervisor sighs curtly.

"Since he knows, we have no choice. You can tell him what he needs to know, while getting a sense for where he stands."

Nino's unseeing gaze is locked on to the fireplace before him. The flames dance in a show of light and shadow across his face, the faint snaps of the wood filling the silent room. Telling Jean that Nino has always been watching him... that it's been going on since before he received the order from the Chief Officers. The moment Jean knows about this, what will be of their relationship?

No. The shift already happened when Jean looked back at him.

"Of course, you can also leave without talking to him," Abend adds, voice as steady as always. "This doesn't mean your duties are over, however. You'll simply leave your role as his friend Nino, and continue your work."

The words sink down Nino's esophagus and into his stomach like bitter medicine. Parting words are exchanged, as weightless as the motion of Nino's hand dropping with the phone.

Jean already knows Nino was the one watching him, and he's surely expecting an explanation. If Nino leaves, if he completely disappears from Jean's sight... he'll just go back to before they became friends in high school. Their friendship will be severed, and Nino will go back to being a stranger behind the camera lens.

But no; inside, Nino can't go back anymore. For the first time since Jean was born, Nino becomes aware of how _attached_ he is to him, and not in a simply emotional level. It's not the bond between a watcher and his target—not even the bond between friends.

The realization frightens Nino to his core.

He knows; even after having the privilege of seeing himself reflected in those clear blue eyes a thousand times, that man will never be his. He knows that well enough.

_You'd be hopeless without me._

Nino presses his knuckles into his closed eyes.

_I'm hopeless without you._

 

Nino never calls Jean, nor does he risk appearing nonchalantly beside the other man. It wouldn't fly as easily as the previous times, if Jean's wariness is anything to go by.

For the following days, Nino takes special care in hiding himself when he follows Jean. Nino knows that, every time Birra's branch supervisor is babbling about something or other and Jean's gaze wanders into dark corners, _he_ is the one in his mind, for the first time. It puts Nino on edge, even _thrills_ him in the most nerve-racking of ways, because even though Jean knows he's there, they never make eye contact again. Jean never finds him... or so it seems.

On Jean's very last night in Birra, this assessment crumbles when Nino hears the crunch of footfalls climbing the snowy mountain. There shouldn't be any aimless wanderers right now; it's already dark, and up this mountain there's only a forest, skeletal and monochromatic. Nino instinctively hides behind a tree trunk, but the vibrant yellow of Birra's branch coat catches his eye immediately. And then, the vibrant gold of Jean's hair.

While Nino looks on, Jean's blue eyes are pointed forward as he walks through the trees, hands tucked into his coat's pockets. Then, when he comes to a stop, his eyes flutter shut, and everything falls silent. Only the snowflakes move around them, uncaring for the suspended quietness of the scene.

"I thought you'd invite me to grab a bite, at least once, like usual," Jean finally says, voice carrying clear into the open space before him and between the trees. Nino scrutinizes his lone silhouette.

_It's possible that he knew where I was all along and simply waited for me to come forward out of my own will. Waited for me to explain._

_Why would he wait? And why would he still come?_

"When someone helped me out during the Suitsu riot, I thought he looked familiar," Jean continues, and his eyes open up. Still, they won't meet Nino's. "I'd heard the same voice before too. And looking back, I think there were many other similar instances, not just this past month. Do you work for ACCA?"

Jean turns his head to pin Nino down with his stare, clear blue and hooded.

"That's right," Nino replies honestly, and the words carry a sense of finality with them, like the confession to a crime.

Jean looks away again, and sighs, "I see."

Nino watches as Jean pulls his cigarette case out of his coat's pocket and opens it, saying, "I don't really understand my current predicament. Do you?"

_Doesn't understand why ACCA has you under surveillance? Or why you've been thrown in the very center of this coup d'état mess? Or why your supposed best friend is an agent for Internal Affairs and has been shadowing you for much longer than this past month?_

It's a tricky question. Nino decides to give it the shortest, most general answer.

"You're just someone who always gets caught up in things."

"Here's what I think, Nino. You're not the kind of guy who'd try to get me into deeper trouble," Jean says around the unlit cigarette between his lips. He uses the pause to lift his lighter and flick a lone flame to the cigarette tip. After taking a drag and puffing out a small cloud of smoke, he continues, "So just tell me about this someday, when you can."

Nino blinks down at Jean's dimly illuminated profile, smoke still spiraling out of his cigarette butt. Suddenly, the curtains are falling around Nino, and everything clears up.

_Did I really expect him to respond differently?_

No, it wasn't that. Truthfully, Nino was caught in a moment of fear. Of course he knew about Jean's nearly stupid patience and non-curiosity. But Nino was afraid of losing his place—afraid that Jean would finally decide he doesn't deserve his trust or his patience, because any other person wouldn't stand it.

Nino doubles over in laughter, and he's relieved. Relieved that it's _Jean_ , not other person.

_I'm glad it's you._

"This involves you, but you really don't give a damn," Nino says amidst laughter, then raises his head to smile at Jean. "That's just like you, Jean."

Nino walks towards Jean, who stares at him blankly with his cigarette pinched between his deft fingers. It's only just dawning on Nino how much Jean trusts him, how ridiculous he is for it, and how much Nino is _thankful_ , so he decides to disclose the bare bones of the truth.

"I'm not watching you because I work for ACCA. For now, that's all I can say."

Jean absorbs that information in a split second of reflection and smiles at Nino. "Okay."

His easy grin is not at all different from before.

Jean looks back at the foot of the mountain for a moment. "I'm going back tomorrow. Once I return, I have to make sure Lotta gets a good meal. You should come."

Nino blinks slowly as Jean flashes him a quick smile before starting on his way down the mountain. The smile that stretches across Nino's face is impossible to hold back. He closes his eyes for a moment, soaking on the relief of still having a place beside Jean and Lotta.

 

Simply returning to Dowa doesn't evoke strong feelings in Nino, exactly. One who knows his story would expect such thing, but Nino was fairly young when he left Dowa with his father. He's lived in Badon for a much bigger chunk of his life, so, for all purposes, Dowa is not really a home to him. 

It doesn't mean, however, that Dowa doesn't have certain places that harbor important memories for Nino.

After Birra, there's no real need to slink in the shadows to watch Jean—though the reasons behind it remain a secret, the act of it is accepted by Jean, weirdly so. Being as such, Nino doesn't bother to hide and lets himself be found by Jean in the streets of Dowa, after the man finished the first day of his audit in the local branch.

Despite having subtly ordered Nino to step away from his audit in Rokkusu and keeping his distance in Hare, he takes to Nino's presence in Dowa easily. Nino smiles behind his scarf while Jean tells him he's looking for the store that sells _yukinotama,_ because Lotta is ravenous for it. The girl has even more of a sweet tooth than Jean; Nino can imagine how happy she'll be when her brother brings her the pastries.

Nino knows exactly where the shop is, and points behind Jean.

"It's just up ahead. It's closed now, so I'll bring you tomorrow."

Jean looks behind himself, as though expecting to make out the right store with such a vague description. Nino moves to fall in step beside Jean.

"Where's your audit tomorrow?" Nino asks, and realizes how mixed his personal and professional intentions became in a single sentence. Jean doesn't seem to think much of it, though, and they walk down the street in light steps.

"His Majesty is making an outing, so I've put things on hold. I'm free all day."

"How about three o'clock, then?" Nino proposes. "They have a great cake, so we can try it."

"Chocolate cake again?" Jean asks, sounding mildly amused.

Nino keeps his eyes pointed straight forward as he answers, "Nope, apple cake."

"Choosing a cake without chocolate, that's rare."

"It's really good. You haven't heard?" Nino glances at Jean with a smile. The wistfulness barely concealed by his glasses' dark lenses is slipping out into his voice, he's positive. However, Nino knows Jean won't ask.

"You sure know a lot," Jean muses with laughter in his voice.

_Someday, I'll tell you. Everything I know._

Nino wants to open himself up to Jean, even if it has to start in his own, secret way.

When the next day comes, bringing the first snowfall of winter, they make their way to Honig Avenue, where Cafe Berg is. In addition to his sunglasses and the black scarf covering the bottom half of his face, Nino has his dark-blue hair tucked into a black hat. Before they enter the store, Jean sends him a questioning glance.

"Hey, is there someone you're trying to avoid running into?"

"You have good instincts."

"I can tell," Jean deadpans, eyes roaming over his get-up impatiently.

"I don't get along with the owner here," Nino explains. It's a lie.

As expected, Jean drops the subject and they go into the store. Nino makes himself as inconspicuous as possible beside Jean; rather than not getting along with the owner, this is a precaution, but even Jean wouldn't let that slip by without clarifications.

"Lotta will be over the moon," Jean mutters to himself as he appraises the _yukinotama_ on display at the front desk.

"Which cake will you order for yourself?" Nino asks, voice slightly muffled by his scarf.

"I'll take this _yukinotama_."

"I hear His Majesty likes them too. The royal family orders from here."

"He really likes sweets, huh?"

"I'll have the white chocolate cake and the apple cake for here," Nino tells the girl at the front desk as Jean looks over his shoulder at the store front.

She seems to pick up on his curious glance and comments, "This time, His Majesty is taking his rest stop here."

At Jean's low hum of surprise, the girl's courteous smile disappears, seeming intrigued. "Oh, you didn't know? Every time he goes on an outing, he visits a pâtisserie he likes."

"Then we should leave," Jean starts telling Nino, but the shop owner cuts in from the side.

"That won't be necessary. Please take a seat. His Majesty requests that we do business as usual." Jean follows the owner's glance outside, where the king's guards line up the sides of the street and King Falke greets citizens. "He enjoys spending time with customers. The farthest seat in the back is reserved for His Majesty, but you can sit anywhere else."

Ultimately, they turn to the adjoining room, where tables are set neatly for the patrons to make themselves comfortable while eating.

"The owner seems like a nice person," Jean observes, turning to look at Nino.

"I'm sure he's in a good mood because the king will be visiting."

Nino is barely finished with his sentence when the owner's voice drones from the front desk, "You'll need to remove your hat and sunglasses."

Jean smirks faintly while Nino lets out a gruff sigh. He takes off his sunglasses and hat before they sit at the table nearest to the entrance.

"See, I told you," Nino jokes airily.

"Did you know they were coming here?" Jean queries, looking outside.

"I knew it was a possibility," Nino says, though the truth is that Abend informed him of that only an hour before he was to meet Jean.

The store door creaks open as some of the king's guards start filing in, followed immediately by the king himself. The old man's benevolent smile sits at odds with the Privy Council president's stern complexion as he flanks His Majesty.

Nino gets up from his seat and Jean hurries to follow his example. As the king walks into the room, they cross a single arm at their chest and bow their heads respectfully. Even though Nino's eyes are stuck to the floor, he can tell Jean is peeking up curiously at His Majesty.

Only when the Privy Council president pulls the chair to the king and he sits down at the table does Nino and Jean sit down at their own again.

They don't have much time to soak in the oppressive silence of the room before three female employees walk into the room with cakes and tea sets. Two of them move with practiced ease to serve the king first, and one tends to Jean and Nino's orders.

While Nino valiantly tries to blend in with the wallpaper, Jean seems completely oblivious to the still air inside the room.

"This is good," Jean marvels after a bite of his _yukinotama_. "Can I try your cake too?"

Nino simply stares at him for a moment. "You have nerves of steel, you know?"

"What?"

Nino sets his tea cup down and throws a glance towards the guards' stony expressions and unmoving stances. "Right now, most people wouldn't be able to say a single word."

"But they said to act like nothing is unusual," Jean countered, tone flippant.  Maybe cold blood runs in the royal lineage, Nino wonders. "I'm sure it's fine, as long as we aren't loud."

"Is it good?" The king's question comes on the heels of Jean's sentence, and Nino has to rein in the flinch in his spine.

Jean turns to look at the king. He's silent for a moment, as if disbelieving.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Is that a _yukinotama_?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The king nods and hums approvingly, white mustache twitching above his grin. By his side, the Privy Council president leans down to fill him in.

"He is with the Inspection Department at ACCA headquarters," he tells the king, his voice a step away from a whisper. Then, he turns to look at Jean and projects his voice. "Is that right?"

"Yes."

"He seems to be wearing clothes from Dowa," His Majesty notes.

Jean looks down at himself, as though he just realized it himself. "Well... I only brought my uniform, so he lent me these."

When Jean gestures towards Nino, who's been keeping to himself the whole time, the king turns his gentle gaze to him.

"You are the photographer from the coming of age ceremony," the king declares. Nino still has his scarf covering most of his face, and yet, His Majesty doesn't stop for a second to question his identity.

Nino pushes his chair back and gets to his feet gingerly, head still bowed.

"Thank you for allowing me to take photographs, Your Majesty. I was able to get some good shots."

The king's kind smile stretches the slightest bit wider. "No, I should thank you."

The words, heavy with meaning, plunge into Nino's chest as two antagonistic forces. They unfurl into the pleasant warmth of pride, swelling into his ribcage as if it's trying to make his lungs overflow. But, at the same time, they make a sharp stab of unworthiness at the very center of that positive feeling, tainting it with increasing self-consciousness. With it, comes the cold in his stomach.

Nino's father, the kind, dutiful man who always brought him to this store to buy apple cake, would be beyond himself to hear such words from the king himself. This store is full of memories of his father, be it from times they sat together at one of those tables and ate cake while looking outside, be it from times he looked up at his father as they stood by the front desk and his father pinched his nose playfully, saying they were going to eat at home this time.

But the only one standing before the king now is Nino, being thanked by His Majesty himself. Right at this moment, Nino is forced to remember the effort his father put into his duties to the Otus family, and reflect on whether the job he's doing right now is worth such words of gratitude.

"You honor me, Your Majesty."

Jean's curious glance lets Nino know the weird quality of his words and voice didn't escape the other man.

 

They end up spending all afternoon in Cafe Berg. After dark, they discuss going to a bar together—Nino does know a fair variety of them. However, smoking isn't well-viewed in Dowa and Jean was definitely not drinking without his cigarettes, so they decide against the idea.  

Instead, they buy booze and head up to Jean's hotel room, where the man calls up room service for snacks. Despite the cold in their bones and the snowflakes falling outside the window, they're soon warmed up by the red and orange flames crackling in the fireplace.

"That was quite a day," Jean comments after a while. There's awe in his voice, muffled behind his hands as he covers his face. He's well on the road to drunkenness, and, for once, Nino can't say he's much better.

Clearly, he's still riding the high of having a meal with the king himself. Even aloof as he is, Jean became flustered when His Majesty invited him to his table, claiming he couldn't eat everything alone. Nino knows the king wasn't simply looking to engage in conversation with a citizen; he did so because it was _Jean_.

Granted the king's permission, Nino took pictures. His Majesty talked animatedly to Jean, who responded to him with equal attention, and Nino alone orbited the table, camera in hand. There's a line between their worlds that Nino has been playing at for the past fifteen years, like it had been drawn on the sand with a stick. On that afternoon, however, that line was more like the distance between the Earth and the Moon.

With or without rights of succession, Jean is royalty. Princess Schnee was never completely free of her royal blood, and the same can be said to her children. Jean is a prince from birth while Nino is a born and bred commoner, simply entrusted with the duty to keep watch over Jean and Lotta.

Rather, being a commoner has nothing to do with it. His duty is, above all, what keeps him at the very edge of Jean's world. And when Nino captured the king's amiable smiles and Jean's attentive gaze in his viewfinder, he was further reminded of his place.

Whereas Jean sounds content, Nino's voice is a tired sigh when he replies, "Yeah, it was amazing. It isn't every day that you get thanked."

Jean uncovers his face, propping up his chin on his open palms. "I always thank you, and so does Lotta."

"I meant in my line of work." Nino explains, turning his eyes away from the ceiling and back to Jean, who's staring at him with curiosity. "When your supervisor praises you, doesn't it feel good?"

Jean straightens up, a faint ribbon of smoke streaking the air as he moves the cigarette pinched between his fingers. "Do you have one in your job?"

"Yeah. I've never gotten any praise, though. When I see him, he usually tells me off. He did that last time." Nino takes a swig of his wine glass.

When he abided by Jean's request to have dinner with Lotta every night while he was in Rokkusu, his supervisor hadn't liked it at all—he hadn't been ordered to stay, after all. While they maintain a mostly cordial relationship, it's fair to say that Abend can be as hard on others as he is on himself.

Nino smiles faintly to himself. "If I keep talking to you like this, I bet he'll grab me by the collar again."

"Do you like what you do, Nino?" Jean asks, a smile in his voice. Nino isn't looking at him, so he can't tell if the smile is really there. Instead, he's watching the blurry lights playing on his wine's surface as he gingerly plays with the glass between his hands.

"It isn't about whether I like it. I'm not supposed to like it." The glass stops in his hands. Even if he's not looking, he can vaguely feel Jean's stare boring into him.

"But I guess... I do. That's why I get told off."

As his muscles relax and the edges of his vision darken, Nino remembers an age-old sentence.

_Your role as Jean's friend is secondary to that of Jean's shadow. Your proximity is merely an asset in favor of watching him. That's your truth, for as long as the king lives._

Who said those words? They're too harsh for his father's mouth, and Abend was never fond of spelling things out.

Maybe it was just himself.

 

For those first few seconds of consciousness, Nino is only aware of the warmth and comfort he's wrapped up in. There's a faint fuzziness riding up his spine as sleep ebbs away, and he mindlessly curls up into himself in an attempt to trap the cozy feeling in his chest.

Then, Nino realizes he's in a bed and he doesn't remember lying down to sleep the previous night.

The first thing he sees when he cracks one eye open is a back clothed in a thin, white shirt. That alone is enough to recognize the other person, before even seeing the blond hair cascading over the edge of the pillow, short strands shimmering golden in the early morning light.

Nino means to groan inwardly, but his groggy and slightly hungover brain must've interpreted the signals as "grunt loudly", because Jean starts at his voice. After shifting around, maybe trying to fall asleep again, Jean finally turns over to blink blearily at Nino.

"Morning," Jean grumbles, and Nino is becoming increasingly aware of the fact they're sharing a bed.

That and the fact that Jean looks criminally endearing. Did he look like that the morning after they crashed in his place's couch a few days before New Year's?

"Morning," Nino replies after untying his tongue, rubbing sleep off his eyes. "Why am I here?"

Jean hums, curling his arms to his chest as if to retain the heat under the covers. Nino is utterly distracted.

"You fell asleep in the middle of conversation, right at the table. It was kind of funny," Jean said with a slight, whimsical grin. Nino sighs.

"This is not funny at all. You should've waked me up."

_If that guy knew about this, there would be no end to his berating._

Jean blinks. "You're flustered. A lot of firsts have been happening since yesterday."

Nino opens his mouth to retort, but Jean cuts him off.

"You just looked really tired before, so I thought you could use the rest. Your back would be really banged up if I left you on that chair, though, so I carried you here."

"I'm more surprised by the fact that I slept through your grunts and huffs while carrying me here," Nino says airily, and Jean snorts.

"I was surprised too, but you were really sleeping like a log. A very heavy one."

Nino hums as if saying "is that so?" and pushes himself to sit up.

"Shouldn't you be getting along? You gave yourself a break yesterday, but your flight is booked for this evening. A headstart might be a good idea."

Jean groans as he stretches in the bed like a lazy cat, arms thrown up as he pinches his face. As he glances back at Jean, Nino makes sure to shut away any unsightly thoughts before they can come into the foreground of his mind.

"You're right. I planned everything ahead but I'm cutting it close," Jean arches the sentence into a grunt, hauling himself up and tossing his legs over the edge of the bed. "Might as well start off early, since you woke me up already."

"My apologies, Your Highness," Nino mutters breezily. Jean pays him no mind as he grabs some necessities from his bag and makes for the en-suite.

When the door clicks shut, Nino lets out a harsh sigh and drops his face into his hands, momentarily digging its heels into his eyes.

 

When Nino leaves Jean's hotel room that morning, he's made up his mind.

Things can't go on like this; getting drunk in front of Jean, putting important information at risk, having _Jean_ look out for him when that's _Nino's_ job... He's lost his focus completely. As Nino writes his report on Dowa's audit, back to his small apartment in Badon, he naturally makes no mention of the incident, but the events are swirling in his mind.

Somewhere along the way, Nino has lost sight of the line between his roles. In Birra, Jean was so accepting that Nino relaxed and stopped hiding—he forgot that he wasn't in Hare or Dowa as Jean's friend, but strictly as his watchman.

However, his worst mistake was losing himself that night. In more ways than one.

The reminder in the king's gentle smile should've been enough of a wake-up call, but he still let things careen out of control. Nino didn't know he was prone to denial until now, and he snorts at the thought, sliding his report and photos into a manila folder. Maybe he's getting more irresponsible as he ages.

So Nino eats chocolate, develops his pictures and hides again. They're in Korore, and Jean's wandering glances show he expects Nino to show up beside him. Instead, Nino stays with his back against cold brick walls, nothing but a pair of watchful blue eyes in the dark.

Director-General Mauve corners Jean as he exits a store, wearing an austere expression. While Jean is flustered—something possible only because it's _Mauve_ —she is her ever composed self. Mauve may look even more imposing in the faded colors of her home district, standing tall in dark, casual clothes. She moves towards Jean as he stammers, most likely worried that she will confront him on being a coup sympathizer. Nino almost wants to sigh; who will drink with Jean tonight?

Mauve leans closer to Jean's ear, and her eyes don't look like those of someone who's about to reproach another. Although her voice drops a few octaves, Nino is close enough to hear it when she says:

"You're royalty."

Jean's eyes go wide.

_Oh. So she already found out._

Nino watches keenly as they walk away and Mauve's voice becomes inaudible.

It's hardly surprising that the information got to her—in fact, it might've taken too long. After all, that's the woman who knew about Nino's work in Internal Affairs all along, even though his existence should be of knowledge to the Five Chief Officers alone. The possibility of her interference wasn't taken into consideration in his supervisor's plan, but Nino is sure that it won't do any damage; in fact, she might be helping things along.

By the time Jean comes to find Nino, the mild afternoon has been washed away in rainwater, leaving puddles of cloudy dark skies on the cobblestone sidewalks. They're sprinkled from the light rain, and for once, Jean looks like he won't leave before he has answers.

So Nino tells him everything. He tells Jean of the day he overheard his father's plans of leaving him behind for his master's sake, and the taste of apple cake eaten together. Nino tells him about the day Princess Schnee freed her most loyal guard, and how he never left, and how they never left. Nino tells Jean about the days his apartment in Badon was still warm and filled with sunlight, when his happiness was having his father come home to tell him stories about Lady Schnee and her new family.

Nino tells Jean about the day he was born, and the day Lotta was born. He remembers their first, and second, and third meetings in high school, and Jean is smiling faintly, wistfully.

Jean's expression crumbles when Nino tells him of the day his father died along with his parents in that train wreck. It's still very alive in his mind—the memory of flashlights dancing atop the hills as search teams looked for survivors in the night, the scraping sound of his father's battered camera as he picked it up from under the debris.

The rain hasn't yet stopped outside their shelter when he finishes, and Jean isn't looking at him anymore. Nino is up on his feet, hands tucked into his pockets while he stares at the crown of Jean's downcast head.

"What I must make sure you understand is that Lady Schnee was removed from the Dowa family register. You have no claim to the throne."

"I don't care about that." Jean's voice is weak, almost a whisper. The lights from the street seep through the columns behind Nino, but they're in the shadows. Jean's expression is hidden from view. "When I lost my parents, you cheered me up, remember?"

Nino's gaze slides down Jean's sitting figure and catches his hands, clasped together and wringing between his knees. Not even the calm paddling of rain can cut through the tension-filled silence. Everything is out in the open, and what was avoided in Birra is happening now; the rift is opening between them, slowly but surely.

Nino turns to leave the high-ceiling arch corridor where they had taken cover from the rain. His boots leave a damp track on the polished concrete flooring as he says:

"We chose to watch over you and Lotta, my supervisor and I. I'm sure you dislike being watched, but as long as His Majesty lives, you'll have to put up with it." Nino stops for a moment to look back at Jean with a small, mirthless smile. "I won't mess up again and get noticed, though."

Jean is staring at him now. Nino thinks he's looking just like he did the morning when he returned to school after his parents' death. Jean seems lost, and Nino can't promise the same things again.

Nino escapes the raw resentment and frustration in Jean's eyes, letting the cold rain pour over his head and down his cheeks.

 

The last time they saw each other, Nino was chilled down to his soul by the freezing rain.

It's when Nino is in Yakkara that he receives the call from his supervisor. Men working for the first princess tried against Lotta's life, and had it not been for Mushroomhead and Abend... they would've succeeded.

"I doubt that was the end of it, either," Abend tells him, tone graver than he had ever listened. "Stay vigilant."

Nino clenches his fist, though his voice is still even-keeled when he answers. He knows even before his supervisor tells him.

Lotta will be safe for now; Abend will make sure of that. Nino can rest easy knowing that, but they will eventually come after the most problematic obstacle to the first princess; the male heir, Jean.

Nothing happens during the remainder of Jean's stay in Yakkara. It's the same for Pranetta, which is to be expected—hard to hide where there's only sand and rocks, and the first princess' men would undoubtedly draw the attention of the district's people.

The news of the king's collapse leaves the ACCA headquarters in an uproar, and Nino knows they'll be acting soon. What he doesn't foresee is that the first princess' assassins would be so desperate.

The next time Nino sees himself in those vivid blue eyes, his flesh is on fire. His heart is banging against his sternum, as if trying to beat as quickly as it can before it stops.

Eclipsing the sweet aroma of flowers, the scent of blood fills Nino's nostrils. Through the pain biting into his insides, blurring his vision and sending shudders up his spine, he's only thinking _let it be me let it be me alone_.

When Jean calls for him, voice ringing clear in his ears despite his loose grasp onto conscience, Nino knows he wasn't hit too. Voices thunder somewhere above him, but his blood is soaking him and Jean where they're flush together, warm and sticky against his skin. Through a slit, he can see Jean staring down at him, eyes wide and blank, face pale like he's never seen before.

The red splattered over Jean is only from Nino. The breath of relief that leaves him sends a stab of pain through his body, and the warm lights around Jean's face blur into nothingness.

 

The darkness of the hospital room reminds Nino of his apartment, and for a moment, he's not sure where he is.

A male nurse is checking his vitals when he comes to. After helping him drink some water, the man asks him about the pain, then about whether he's feeling up for visits. At Nino's small nod, the nurse leaves the room.

Nino might've blacked out again for a couple of minutes, because he only catches himself when the door creaks open once more, shedding a beam of light into the room. A long shadow chases away the light before the door clicks shut, and Jean steps closer to his bed. Nino follows the movement with a sidelong glance.

As his eyes get used to the dark, Nino can see the color has returned to Jean's face. His white dress shirt, too, isn't pure white anymore; Nino's blood covers the bottom half of it in angry splatters.

"Talk about devil's luck," Jean says after a moment, stopping to stand at the bedside. Nino snorts softly, and the sound grates inside his oxygen mask. "If that was the group that attacked Lotta... It must have been the Dowa family again."

"Yeah."

"I was told the attackers killed themselves."

"There must be more than two. I wonder if... they got away." The words leave Nino almost in wheezes, hoarse and heavy. He turns his tired eyes to the ceiling.

"Dunno."

"This is my first time here... For some reason, my supervisor never let me come to Furawau. This time, due to the Five Chief Officers' orders to ACCA Agent Crow, I was allowed to come." Nino steers his weak smile towards Jean, slightly turning his head to lock eyes with him. "I even followed the directive not to harm anyone affiliated with the Dowa family. I'm sure I'll be praised for my actions." 

Jean simply peers down at him for a moment. When he opens his mouth, Nino can sense the smallest edge in his tone. "You're talkative today."

"Hey, Jean," Nino breathes out as he pulls the oxygen mask away from his face. "These days, when I look at you, I can't tell if you're getting dragged into things, or if you're prying into the whole mess." He winces at the discomfort near his midsection. It's making it harder to talk. "I won't tell you what to do. My job is to simply watch over you."

Nino closes his eyes, his smile frail but unwavering. Like his father, Nino put his life in the line for his duty tonight. More than that, he jumped for those bullets knowing good and well that he was leaping to his potential death. His father would've been proud, had he been here. He may not be nearly as disciplined or purely devoted as Abend, but he can be the person most loyal to Jean.

He'll endure this pain another time and many times over, if it'll keep Jean safe.

"To watch over me?"

Nino opens his eyes at the undeniable aggravation inflaming Jean's voice. Though still tamed, his tone only becomes sharper as he continues speaking.

"You should stop already, Nino. You don't exist to serve the Dowa Family."

Nino stares at Jean in muted awe. For the first time since Nino's ever known him, Jean is employing power into his voice. In his everyday life, Jean is calm, subdued. At first glance, no one would even fathom the royal blood running in his veins. Right now, however, he looks more regal and commanding than the royally born and bred Prince Schwan ever did.

As soon as the kingly cloak has settled over Jean's back, however, it falls away. His shoulders relax and features soften. His tone of voice follows suit when he says:

"Neither Lotta nor I want that."

_Your role as Jean's friend is secondary to that of Jean's shadow._

_Your proximity is merely an asset in favor of watching him. That's your truth, for as long as the king lives._

_That's your truth._

_That's my truth._

_But I don't exist to serve the Dowa Family._

Jean is turning to leave and stepping towards the door when Nino finds his words again.

"I'm doing this because I choose to."

Jean stops in his tracks.

"Then stop saying things like, 'I'm not supposed to have fun.'" Jean's blond hair shimmers in the faint light as he twists back to glance at Nino. He looks away again, but not before Nino sees the saddened flicker in his eyes. "I've always had fun. Even now. Maybe I'll get scolded for that too."

Nino smiles. Jean still doesn't understand anything.

But that's okay. It's okay... if he changes, if he stays the same. Nino closes his eyes.

_Just let me watch over you for a while longer._

 

On the day of ACCA's centennial ceremony, the threat of Lilium family is foiled by Jean and Mauve's combined efforts. The coup d'état is turned into an act to force the egocentric Prince Schwan to properly face his people and make a compromise that will ensure the continued existence of ACCA. Although Nino is still in pathetic shape, needing a crutch to stay on his feet for more than two minutes, he comes to silently stand beside Lotta and look up at the stage, where Jean stands inconspicuously beside other ACCA officials.

Nino lays low after that, on Abend's request. For weeks on end, he only hears of Lotta and Jean through his supervisor. He's sure Jean must've told Lotta not to message him, otherwise his inbox would be overflowing with worried texts. What he's not sure is whether this is a good or bad sign.

It's only a month later that Abend summons a meeting at the cemetery where his father is resting. At this point, Nino's body is already well on its path to complete recovery. It was the works of a "devil's luck", indeed; the bullets didn't so much as graze any of his internal organs, despite its tricky entry spots. Still, there was plenty of muscle tissue and bone in the bullets' path, so he didn't exactly come out unscathed.

Still, he's thankful for being able to walk without crutches and even ride his bike already.

When he arrives to the cemetery, Abend is standing under the shade of a tree, atop the small hill overseeing the tombstones.

"Well done," Nino says in lieu of a greeting as he walks up to his supervisor.

Abend keeps on looking out into the distance as he brushes off Nino's commendation with a light tone.

"Everything was Privy Council President Qualm's orders. We had to eradicate the Lilium family's plots before Prince Schwan's ascension, even if that meant involving the Otus siblings. I would never have conceived of such thing."

"But you supported his plan by insisting that Jean would never want the throne himself. And for the past six months, you guided Jean's actions. In terms of orchestration, an impressive feat."

A crisp afternoon breeze passes them as Abend raises his face to the sky, dyed blond hair rustling around his face.

"It was nothing so grand. You know that better than anyone."

The polite curve of Nino's lips grow into a genuine, albeit still small, smile. In the end, he and Abend are the same; bound by duty, in spite of their selfish decisions. They lost their happiness on the same day, but found a new one.

Abend sidesteps him to reach the stairs leading down the slope of the hillside, and Nino follows him. They stop in front of his father's tombstone, and Abend gestures towards the small, modest structure. Obligingly, Nino bends down to lay the camera he's been using for the past fifteen years on the stone slab.

Abend declares, "His Majesty no longer needs photos. You two are released from your duties."

A pause.

"You are free. Live as you see fit."

Nino is smiling down at the camera. Even though it was the single object binding him to the royal family, he has no resentment for it or the mission he received. Even in death, his father, too, must've never regretted the choice he made. Now that their work is over, the camera Nino used to carry on with his father's duty should stay with him.

"I will do so," Nino tells Abend.

_Our princess has grown to be as beautiful and kind as her mother, and our prince became a fine man, father._

_You can rest easy now._

Abend breathes deeply, slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat.

"It's time. I'm leaving." He steps back and turns to leave, shoulders hunched. "In any case, we'll meet again. After all, you and I will live as we want."

Nino smiles at his former supervisor's retreating back. He only stands there a moment longer before stalking out of the cemetery as well, finding his bike parked in front of a neighboring building.

As Nino kick starts his bike, he's already making plans. He will buy himself a new camera, because regardless of taking on photography for business' sake, it's already a part too big of him to leave behind. He will look for a new apartment; his lease will be up at the end of the month, after all, so he has more than enough time to house-hunt. He's not looking for a place overly special—it is simply not the same as it was before his father's death. He will see Lotta, and apologize for worrying her over the past few months.

And he will find Jean.

Nino smiles to himself. He's been freed of his duties, but like Abend, the place he will return to remains the same. Everything else is different now, though.

_You don't exist to serve the Dowa Family._

Even before Abend relieved him of his duties, he had already been freed by those shining words.

**Author's Note:**

> (if you got here, YOU deserve kudos)


End file.
